


The Abyss Behind

by Cibeeeee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9532220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: “What do you have to lose, right?” Lena added good-naturedly.McCree laughed, and his stomach twisted painfully. He knew she didn’t mean it like that but, she was right – he had nothing to lose. He had nothing to begin with.(anon requested 8: "Oh, my God, I thought you were going to die. Please don’t ever scare me like that again.")





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was from the ["Right to the good parts" Prompts list ](http://tiptoe39.tumblr.com/post/128638682051/right-to-the-good-parts-prompt-list)  
> anon requested 8: Oh, my God, I thought you were going to die. Please don’t ever scare me like that again. on Tumblr  
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://cibeeeeee.tumblr.com/) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spiciestcibee?lang=zh-tw) !

McCree thought about how broken he was quite often.

Two times the least every day. Sometimes, constantly until he falls asleep.

It got better once, a long, long time ago, when he was lying on the ground panting. Bullets wounds a familiar and dull ache in his skin, Gabriel Reyes standing next to him looking austere and horrified. “What are you doing in a gang, kid?”

That was the first of the many days followed that McCree thought about not how broken he was – but how he could mend the cracks.

Although that ended. As he packed his bag with a sense of guilt and the same childhood fear of _I can’t do anything – I need to run –_

And so he did.

Not long after McCree saw the news of an explosion that he knew would happen, but was too…to stop.

(Was he afraid? Was he clueless? Or did he just think he was too useless to stop it?)

It was a rainy afternoon. He was staying for a day or two in Morro Bay when McCree got the signal for Recall.

And it was another two weeks, when he had landed in Taiwan and was getting baked like a literal roast animal when Lena called him.

“Woah!” she exclaimed. “You look like you’re dying!”

“I feel like I’m dying,” McCree answered, wiping away the sweat on his brow while he ducked to take shelter in a shaved ice shop. He couldn’t even wear his hat without feeling like he was drowning in his own sweat, the humidity was something he never got used to.

They chatted about what they were doing recently. McCree sat in a corner, eating some of the sweetest mangoes he had ever tasted and red beans drenched in condensed milk. Gazing at the dirty walls that were covered entirely in scribbles and doodles what went all the way onto the ceilings when Lena got too caught up in her rambling.

“-Winston and Athena is here all alone, I try to visit more, but Emily’s job is in England and I just don’t want to leave her too long…you listening?”

“Yeah,” McCree said, that was half true. He long developed the skill to have his mind wandered while still being able to catch on to whatever other people were talking about.

Thinking about Winston did make him feel a little uneasy – not everyone enjoyed the solitude, especially when it was forced on you –

“Jesse,” Lena sighed, shifting the phone. There was another woman talking in the background, and a smacking sound of a kiss as Lena leaned off-screen. “You know why I’m calling…Why didn’t you answer the recall?”

McCree knew, but he was still caught off guard. Not that the question was unexpected, but the way it was delivered and from whom. When he was still in – with them, Lena was the girl that talked too much but never really have the guts to confront. Always beating around the bush, blurting out strange slang that confused people more than it conveyed. Now here she was, throwing him a straight question and demanding an answer.

It just reminded McCree of how long it has been.

“I don’t feel right about the Recall,” McCree admitted.

Lena hummed. Would she disagree? “I get what you mean,” she said. “But…it’s not the same. We can run it now. Winston is the leader, and he’s got the biggest heart.”

“He does,” McCree agreed. “But…Lena…”

“I know, Jesse, I know. But we’ve seen what happened, we can’t just shy away from it forever. We gotta learn and make it better, right?”

McCree sighed. His shaved ice had melted into a gooey, white mess. He stirred the content, picking out the beans and mangoes.

“Jesse, please…” Lena said quietly. “You don’t have to rejoin, just come back to visit and stay for a bit, see everyone? Angela is arriving today, I’m here with Emily. Genji is coming back with someone. We just want to see you, if nothing else.”

The cracks inside him trembled, wondering if what she was saying was true or just something to get him going.  

“What do you have to lose, right?” Lena added good-naturedly.

McCree laughed, and his stomach twisted painfully. He knew she didn’t mean it like that but, she was right – he had nothing to lose. He had nothing to begin with.

“Ah,” McCree sighed. “Alright, you convinced me, Missy, I’ll go.”

Lena cheered. She laughed and there was another kissing sound and a faint, “he agreed! Oh, I’m so excited! I missed h– ”

“Though I don’t promise anything,” McCree said loudly. Some people spared a glance at him.

“Yeah! Of course! And you can meet all the new recruits!”

“There’re new people?”

“So many…”

Lena’s voice drifted off as McCree’s phone buzzed with a new email. The familiar and nostalgic logo of Athena flashed on his screen. _“Here’s your plane tickets, Agent McCree.”_

 

．．．．．

 

The new recruits were all so _young_.

Sometimes McCree had to hide in Angela’s office with her just to not feel so fucking old. He wasn’t even forty yet and here he was having a crisis.

Angela wasn’t much help. “You should have stopped smoking and eat better, Jesse.” She always chastised him. It did, however, made him feel better to know that she hasn’t changed in this aspect.

Another thing that hadn’t changed was how McCree never listened to her. So he wandered around base at night (or rather early morning) when he felt exhausted but couldn’t sleep, finding some corner or nooks that no one would go to and smoke.

Well, he might run into one person.

The first time he met Hanzo was during his night smoke. McCree hadn’t known who he was at the time. Hanzo was wearing a long sleeve black sweater and tight fitting workout pants. The man had tucked himself away in the corner of the roof overlooking the sea.

Hanzo didn’t respond when McCree approached and take out his cigarillo. But he did respond when McCree realized his lighter was out of oil.

“Aw, crap,” McCree cursed. The thing had been giving him trouble lately, but he always convinced himself that the oil inside could last him another night.

“No one uses oil lighters anymore,” Hanzo spoke up.

McCree huffed a laugh. “I like the style.”

Hanzo rustled a bit. A hand reached to pat his waist and he seemed to realize there was no pockets there. “I would lend you mine, but I’m afraid I do not have them with me now.”

“That’s alright, partner,” McCree said, because he didn’t know Hanzo’s name at that time. “Say, what are you doing here so late?”

Hanzo’s eyes were fixed on the sky, and the stars and the void in-between the stars reflected in them. He didn’t reply.

McCree sat down next to him and looked at the moon. “Same,” he said, and Hanzo nodded.

 

．．．．．

 

The next day, Genji introduced the man as Shimada Hanzo. McCree shook Hanzo’s hand. Neither of them mentioned seeing each other the night before, and they didn’t say anything when they met that night once again.

 

．．．．．

 

Despite saying he wasn’t thinking about joining, McCree still went on missions. If there was anything he hated, that would be doing nothing.

If he did nothing, the thoughts would return, and McCree had no clue how to stop them.

“Reading,” Hanzo said, “Reading helps me.”

“Does it?” McCree blew out some smoke and passed the cigarette to Hanzo. Their fingers brushed and they both started at the contact, even if neither of them looked away from the sky.  

“Though I have run out of readings lately,” Hanzo said. He didn’t take a smoke, the cigarette hung loosely in his hand. McCree took it back, Hanzo let him.

“I have a book in my room,” McCree said. “It ain’t mine, it was just there when I moved in. It’s paper, too.”

That got Hanzo’s attention. “What’s the book?”

McCree shrugged. “No idea, didn’t look.” Hanzo turned his gaze away from McCree and he had to improvise to get those eyes back. “Norwegian Wood,” he blurted out, remembering Hanzo mentioned it in a passing conversation.

Hanzo’s brow shot up as he looked back at McCree. McCree held his breathing, blinking at the stars in Hanzo’s eyes.

“The book by Haruki Murakami?”

“Yeah, it’s in English, though.” McCree glanced at the ground, knowing how to make the lie more believable but for once not being able to. His face flushed.

“I haven’t read that book in a long time.”

“I could bring it to you, if you want.” McCree said. “After I find it.”

Hanzo’s gaze dropped to the concrete floor as well. He smiled a small smile. “I would like that very much.”

And if McCree skipped a little on his way back to his room, at least no one but Athena saw.

 

．．．．．

 

“Athena, could you order me a paper copy of Norwegian Wood? And have it sent here as soon as possible.”

“Already done, Agent McCree.”

“Thanks, you’re a dear.”

“You’re welcome.”

 

．．．．．

 

Sometimes Jesse thought his dreams were like a broken record, repeating the same tune over and over, for so long. It was always the same, ever since he left Blackwatch.

He would wander, his legs would be hurting like he was walking for days. Sometimes he would be walking in the New Mexico desert, sometimes alone on a highway, sometimes in the corridors of Blackwatch HQ, sometimes in his childhood house.

But McCree would always, always end up in Reyes’ office. A folder with his name printed on it.

McCree opens it every time, despite the drop in his chest. Inside it was his data, like every other Blackwatch agent, only difference was beside his name, there would be a neatly written _sic_.

McCree knew what that _sic_ meant – _this is the way I found it, errors and all._

This was the same dream that woke McCree up in his bunk. Hana and Lena chatted outside of his room as they walked pass. The soft sounds of water dripping in his bathroom. McCree was fine, he was with friends.

McCree sighed, rubbed the sweat and grease off of his face. It was only seven at night, and he had hoped his nap would last a little longer.

Grunting and cracking his bones. Splashing his face with ice cold water. Sitting on his bed thinking about what he should do.

His eyes fell on a package on his desk, and McCree’s mood instantly lifted.

Hanzo was working on a mission report when McCree knocked on his door. His face softened when he saw the book in Jesse’s hands.

Hanzo flipped through the book, fingers touching the paper lightly. It was too new, too neat to be a book that McCree claimed to have found left in his room, but Hanzo said nothing.

“I need to finish the report,” Hanzo said, the corner of his eyes crinkled. “But…I will see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” McCree said, a little sheepishly. “Hope you enjoy the book.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo said. “Good night, Jesse.”

“Night,” McCree stepped out of Hanzo’s room backward, eyes locked with the archer’s until the door slid shut.

McCree stood there for a few more seconds.

And that night Jesse only meant to leave his book with Hanzo, but ended up feeling like he left something else, too.

“Hey!” Reinhardt shouted from across the compound when he spotted McCree on his way back. “How are you, my friend?”

“Scared!” Jesse shouted back. The warm, dark feeling filled him to the brim, almost breaking his heart. “But good!”

Reinhardt boomed with laughter. “That is the best kind!”

McCree could convince himself he didn’t feel something for Hanzo, but not when the moonlight clung onto Hanzo’s ribbon like sands to Jesse’s hair in the dry New Mexico air. Or when Hanzo’s eyes held his so prettily under the dim fluorescent light of the hallway that McCree could easily mistake it for stars.

McCree could, but what was the point, really? He wanted this feeling that McCree hadn’t felt for someone for so long to burn him up, melt him down, and leave him weak.

 

．．．．．

 

Honestly, McCree didn’t even consider confessing. He was just happy with having someone that he felt for in his life. That was safer, anyway, if Hanzo didn’t know.

And he still thought that when a bullet struck him in the abdomen. The force was so strong, it shattered his armor and Jesse could feel the metal shards cutting into his skin.

The time slowed and McCree blinked once, twice on the ground, and after the third blink, he found himself staring at Angela’s face.

“Jesse?” she asked, voice calm as a doctor. “Can you hear me?”

He grunted as an answer. She nodded. “You passed out, but you’re okay. He’s going to okay, Hanzo, please.”

The edge of McCree’s vision was still dotted with black, but he managed to turn his face enough to see Hanzo on the other side.

Hanzo stared down at him. There was a nasty gash on his temple, and McCree couldn’t help but ask, “Are you alright, darling?”

Hanzo choked in a breath and leaned down. McCree tuned his face towards Hanzo as the archer buried his face in the crook of McCree’s neck.

“I thought you were going to die,” Hanzo’s voice was deep, and slow. He didn’t sound like he was crying, but then again, McCree didn’t think Hanzo was the crying type. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again.”

McCree wanted to wrap an arm around the man so much, but he was too tired. “‘M sorry,” he said.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Hanzo said, his words hot and soft against McCree’s skin. “I just do not wish to lose you.”

McCree didn’t reply. He turned his head more, placing a kiss on Hanzo’s messy hair, and realize at the very same time that – he had something he did not want to lose now.

 


End file.
